The Deep End
by Amplesound
Summary: Will Graham is aware of Hannibal. Hannibal is aware of Will Graham. Jack Crawford is trying to understand. Alana is misguided and believes she understands. When Doctor Guido Artz (yes, Guido Artz) is brought in because Jack feels it necessary to have an outsider look deeper, all are thrown into a different sort of turmoil. (Wish me luck!)
1. Chapter 1

Jack Crawford leant over the body of the man with flowers in his chest, cringing but a little. They had found him in a parking lot literally attached to a tree, or better yet, he had become the tree. The roots had been grown and snipped and pinched here and there so as to ensure that they grew through the victim's skin.

In some dark, twisted, secret part of Jack's head – the part that had an eye for detail, he had to admit that this was gloriously done.

Price and Zeller had done a background check and this man was well known for being a crude little shit - for lack of a better word.

"Ok, so…what about the plants?"

"All of them are poisonous – the most poisonous is the heart," Price pointed with his blue, gloved hand at the array of little, yellow rays of sunshine.

"Fitting," Jack uttered dryly, even more so because they were the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen. His mind flickered to Bella and back in a heartbeat.

"Quite," Price continued, "But the problem is…where'd the parts go?"

"You never found them?" Jack looked disbelievingly over at the two forensics; they looked lost; standing side by side, arms hanging limply at their sides,

"No," was all Zeller said as he shrugged.

"Damn. Well keep at it. Tell me if you find anything,"

And he departed, striding out with purpose, leaving Brian and Jimmy to shuffle around to continue doing whatever it was they were doing.

Jack continued down the corridor towards the exit. He didn't realise where he was going until he landed up outside the Baltimore State Prison thirty minutes later. Marching in, he was greeted by Chilton who appeared to have anticipated his arrival and awaited him at the door to his office while leaning on his cane, a strong resemblance to a candy-character he once read about in a book.

Jack didn't even wait to be invited in, didn't even bother with a greeting. Instead, upon approaching Chilton, he let the words,

"You look like Willy Wonka," casually slip out of his stern mouth. Chilton's eyes drifted to the ceiling as he proceeded to close the door behind them both.

"What can I do for you, Jack?" he asked promptly after,

"It's not what _you_ can do; it's what Will Graham can do,"

"But you need my permission to see him or otherwise you wouldn't be here now would you? Ergo, what is it I can do for you? I can give you the permission you need to see one of MY patience,"

Jack looked blankly at him, his hands on his hips so as to have the back of his blazer slightly elevated. The strong urge to tell Chilton to 'shut up' was almost too overpowering. Instead he cocked his head and thinned his lips,

"He is not stable," was Chilton's response, "Therefor to see him is ill-advised,"

"I really don't care,"

"Very well!"

He put a sassy finger on the buzzer and ordered a security guard up to his office. Once the guard had arrived, Chilton explained the situation to him and sent both men on their way, slowly shutting the door behind them, ominously peering through the last crack before it closed with a click.

Jack was in a mood though, not one to be preceded by a security guard who kept blabbering on about the rules and regulations with regards to communicating with a patient either. He strode straight past him to where Will was seated in his cage, his head down as if in prayer.

He looked up slowly when Jack stopped outside,

"Hello Jack," Will smiled solemnly.

"Hello Will,"

"It's good to see you,"

Jack only nodded.

"What is it?"

"A guy in a tree,"

"Interesting,"

"The roots were sowed into him as if he was the tree. His organs were taken out and replaced by poisonous flowers. We never found the organs,"

"Was he rude?"

"Yes and yes, whatever it is you're about to say, I'm pretty sure you and I are thinking the same,"

"He ate them,"

Jack paused for that was definitely not what he was thinking, frowning at Will as he weighed the options. He knew what was coming; it had come up every day since the incarceration.

"We've checked everything on him; Hannibal Lecter is NOT the serial killer,"

"I never said he was,"

"You did, over and over you did,"

"I meant today, Jack,"

"Yeah, well I mean all the time. Our evidence has not changed and it _will_ not change,"

"Do you know why he eats them?"

Jack went silent. Will was calm, collected, detached. Something in him had changed – a notable change,

"I do,"

"Why does he eat them, Will?" Jack found himself standing directly in front of this new Will Graham, hands in his pockets – his FBI training coming into play as he tried to define the caged man.

"Because they're rude. There's no pattern! You'll never find one because there is none, Jack. He has standards, that's the downfall and when someone comes in breach of those standards…well,"

Will let the unsaid hang heavy in the air, his gaze holding steady on Jack's as he gauged his reaction.

"Hannibal," was all Jack replied with; blunt, angry.

"Do you know anyone with higher standards than he?"

Jack abruptly decided he had enough and abandoned the conversation as well as his attempts to make sense of Will and started back towards the exit,

"I don't know why I try with you anymore, William,"

"Jack!" Will called after him, just as he got to the exit, "Try someone else. All of you are too involved,"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that perhaps you're not seeing clearly because you're all too close to each other…you never want to see the bad side of a friend," Will gazed knowingly at Jack, "Do you?"

"No," Jack replied softly, "You're right. Been there, done that,"

And he was gone, leaving Will to his cage. However, the inkling Will's words left in him was hard to ignore, his gaze more so – a slight sway towards the notion that perhaps that was true. They were too close and they needed someone who was not connected to any of them in anyway so as not to start with a vital clue, being missed.

On his way back to the lab and rounding a corner, he almost walked straight into Alana Bloom. She jumped a little at his sudden appearance, her head dropping in a frazzled attempt to stay the fright,

"Jesus, Jack," she looked up at him and smiled that bright smile of hers, not as bright as it once was though. Jack couldn't blame her. He was just as worn out as she – hell, death had followed him home.

"Alana,"

"Just the man I was hoping to see," her smile dropped ever so slightly as the look on Jack's face registered, "Are you alright?"

He nodded slowly, indecision. Alana looked at him sceptically before continuing,

"Jimmy and Brian can't leave the lab but they asked me to give you the heads-up if I saw you on my way out,"

"Thanks. Where are you going?"

"Got a patient," she started on her way but the words of Will Graham got the best of him and he stopped her,

"Wait a second, do you know of anyone who would be a good help – preferably someone neither of us knows too well?"

"What, in terms of doctoring or…"

"Psychiatry," He didn't know why he chose that, maybe because there was so much going on that revolved around psychiatrics that he had it in his head that if Hannibal Lecter was their guy, they'd need one to catch him.

"Uhm, I could have a dig but why?"

"I think we're all a little too close to this case,"

Alana was on it, though, she didn't miss a thing,

"By 'this case', you mean Hannibal," her brightness was gone. She was quickly no more sunshine than she was a brewing storm, "Has Will Graham got the best of you?"

"Just do this, please, Doctor Bloom,"

Jack was so tired of fighting with this woman. She was too fiery for his taste and sometimes he couldn't even shout back, instead he could only exhale audibly and lull his head to one side in submission.

"He's unstable; you can't take the word of a battle worn mind, Jack!"

"I wouldn't if he were asking me to take down Lecter without investigating it which he has been doing a lot of lately and I have yet to listen to it. This, though, this can't hurt. He's right, we're practically a family; if we need to investigate someone close to us, then we'll do it properly,"

"You're still treating Hannibal like a suspect!"

"Everyone's a God Damn suspect! Now do it," and he left her too, her in her huff. Her head flying to the sky in an effort to not scream after him, hands heavy on her hips. As he opened the door to the building in which his office was hid, he also heard the stomps of Alana's heels on the concrete as she departed too. He exhaled again, so tired was he.

He winded his way through the halls of the behavioural science unit until he walked into the lab that was Jimmy and Brian's place of dwelling.

"Well, you look like hell," Jimmy rounded the table to draw Jack's attention to the little computer screen to his left. It conveyed the picture of a map with five little dots around it. Jack was confused but opted to wait for an explanation because since when had he not gotten one?

"Here we have the places that these sorts of flowers are found,"

Jack looked at it blankly and blinked once,

"That's the whole country,"

"Actually no, it's two thirds, the point being – we, like you, also thought that that was maddeningly unhelpful so then we checked the soil type,"

Jimmy clicked on the screen again and Jack watched as the screen morphed and came to focus on only a small part to show only two places within the Baltimore State, maybe a few kilometres out.

"These places are farm land,"

"You think the Ripper is a farmer?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Zeller who was standing just behind Price with pursed lips and hunched shoulders choosing to let Price do the talking,

"No," he clicked out of the setting and rose to look at Jack, "I do think though, that he could be hiding something important on one of these farms,"

Jack looked at Price, impressed, and then at Zeller whose face lit up like a glow-worm.

"Good work!"

OoOoOoO

Time was a mess but eventually the team found themselves on their way to one of the two farms pinpointed by Jimmy's ingenious computer. Alas, nothing was there. They searched it, top to toe and yet there was nothing; so Jack insisted they pack up and head on over to the next farm, a good three hour drive away.

What they found there was enough to send Jack running for the hills to escape this new life, life after Will Graham.

Beverly Katz had been found dead not too long ago, drained, sliced and put on display. Now here were jars of blood – litres of it, and all sorts of medical equipment set up for such a job as putting one of his best guys on show. He could only guess that this was her blood. He wanted to gather it up in his coat and put it in the back of his car and drive it to some place pretty and far away and give it to the earth, his last act of friendship towards her, his last act of family. But he knew that couldn't be done and he was perfectly aware that this may well not be Beverly Katz blood but in a strange, haunting moment, he found himself hoping it was. They'd have everything that was hers and she'd be whole again.

"Jack, there's a well here with a lid."

Jack turned away from his thoughts and made his way to where Brian and Jimmy were staring at a small crack between the well and its lid, left slightly askew. Both men seemed hesitant to do anything about looking inside so Jack took it upon himself – whatever was about to be seen inside, he was pretty sure he'd seen worse.

He hadn't.

"Miriam…" said he as his torch fell on the ghostly, pale form that was Miriam Lass; one arm less, dishevelled and dirty, her eyes wild with fear. Jack stumbled back past Price and Zeller, who were both gaping down the whole at the said same sight,

"Get a rope! Get a ladder! Now, move!" Jack was yelling hysterically. 7 years of wondering about how and why and now here she was, "Get a doctor!"

Before Jack could even say bob's your uncle, they were on the move, just Miriam and he, dashing for the hospital. He kept glancing over at her but her gaze was dead set on the road ahead. Sometimes she'd glance back behind her fearfully but then she'd settle back on the road. He kept repeating the words,

"You'll be fine. We've got you now. You're safe,"

But this was more for his benefit than hers.

And he realised that when she softly said,

"The amount of times I've heard that,"

Jack went silent after that and after about an hour, Miriam had fallen asleep, her head resting on the window. He took the opportunity and whipped out his phone and pulled over, leaving the engine running,

"Doctor Bloom, we found Miriam Lass, I'm going to need you to be at the hospital when I get there."

Alana mumbled something on the phone but Jack didn't really care, instead he started moving again and once he had registered that she wasn't talking anymore, he hung up.

They reached the hospital about an hour and a half later. It was over quickly, getting Miriam out and safe, the paper work, the this' and that's of what goes on in hospitals. Once all was done, he slumped on a chair in the waiting room and closed his eyes for a minute. Only a minute, thinking about Bella and her hospital bed. Her endless beauty that he fell in love with so long ago and now couldn't imagine a life without.

"Jack?"

He was reluctant to open his eyes to the sound of a soft voice calling his name or the gentle squeeze of his shoulder, but he did. Alana Bloom was sitting beside him with a small, comforting smile on her face. Clearly their little strife was over,

"Alana," Jack rubbed his eyes, "Thanks for coming,"

"You found Miriam," her squeeze grew tighter, as if she were proud, "So I found our doctor for you,"

He looked at her through narrowed eyes, they were sensitive to the light now – exhaustion taking its toll. She gestured to a woman sitting opposite him. She looked calm and poised her features soft and warm as she gazed at him through bright eyes. Her hair falling over her shoulders in waves; legs crossed in black trousers, a white collared linen shirt with a black blouse to accompany it. Her shoes however, didn't quite fit. All Stars if he knew his fashion – he guessed it was as a result of getting ready in a hurry. It was quite late after all.

"Jack, this is Doctor Guido Artz. I found her through my old school, she's a university lecturer but she knows her stuff,"

"A university lecturer?"

"Correct," Artz nodded, "I studied psychiatrics and did my time with patience but I always found myself getting too attached. So when once or twice my therapy failed, I couldn't handle it so I chose to teach instead,"

Jack nodded, considering her with curiosity. She seemed nice enough, an unusual name but he sensed something there – something he could only describe as a fiery undertow. He regained his manners on that thought and stood abruptly,

"Excuse my manners, Doctor, it's been a very long day and…well," he looked around at the hospital; quiet.

"I'm Special Agent Jack Crawford, head of the Behavioural Science Unit,"

"No need to stand, Agent Crawford, I can see how tired you are. Please, sit,"

And he did, all too willingly but it didn't stop him from stretching out to shake her hand. It was a strong, solid shake; a fiery undertow to be sure.

Alana looked pleased with herself as she regarded both of them, Jack seemingly the most vulnerable she had ever seen him look and Guido Artz, emphatically in her element as she regarded Jack.

"I'm sorry, Alana, I wanted you out here so that you could speak to Miriam but it doesn't seem like that's going to happen,"

"Don't worry about that," she glanced over at Artz who was still gazing at Jack softly, "It's late, go home to Bella, Jack. I'll stay here and greet her in the morning when she wakes up,"

Jack met Alana's gaze for reassurance,

"What about Doctor Artz, here," he turned his gaze to Artz across from him, "I'm sorry I drew you out here second hand,"

But she shook her head, smiled and raised her feet all in good humour,

"I've got my All Stars,"

Jack had to smile. So his sense of fashion was still up to scratch. He was interested in this new doctor Alana had found. She held herself with grace and elegance (despite the All Stars) but it was her eyes that were every now and then, both, disconcerting and hugely comforting, a sense that she was one of those people that would always appear to know more than they let on but would never admit to it. One of those people that was always sure they knew what they were doing – what _you_ were doing even you weren't.

Perhaps it was a good thing; perhaps it was the worst idea in the long, sad history of bad ideas for what would happen if the person he gauged her to be were to come into contact with someone like the ripper? It would be fire.

On a not so different note, she reminded him of Doctor Lecter.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack had been just about done, Miriam was fine and Alana had spoken to her. She was shaken up, as would be expected but she was fine. It would be a slow process, however, getting her to identify the Ripper.

The day was almost done for him and he counted on it as he made his way to his office for one last curtain call.

He was late though and for some odd reason, he dreaded the outcome. He opened the door to his office quickly and took a step in but all was still. He was subsequently astonished. Doctor Guido Artz was there as was requested and she was so much like Hannibal in the way she was seated that it made him do a double take. Legs crossed, leaning to one side with her hands folded neatly on her knee. She appeared to be staring off into space, however, one thing was yet to be seen; Hannibal always conveyed a mild sense of disapproval when left waiting for too long so, since he'd had her waiting for a good twenty minutes, he wondered if the outcome would be the same. He didn't think Hannibal meant it but it was unpleasant all the same.

He shut the door with a soft click and braced.

She turned around and upon seeing who it was she stood up and smiled warmly – no sign of disapproval at all. Jack felt himself relax and he smiled back and started forward to take her hand in greeting,

"Doctor Artz, good to see you,"

"Likewise,"

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long," he continued as he rounded his desk to take a seat opposite her, "Once again, it's been a long day,"

She took seat too, almost floating down,

"I wouldn't worry too much about it,"

She looked different today; her hair was in a bun and she was wearing a different pair of black trousers with a black shirt and white blouse and heels. Boots, he imagined. He had to comment,

"No All Stars today I see,"

She shook her head and glanced down at her feet,

"I miss them,"

"I miss my pyjamas,"

She smiled softly again, she seemed to get that Jack meant that in all seriousness. She waited for him to continue – he appreciated that as well. He had enough of a push that day not to be urged on to get to the point quickly. Especially because it was a sketchy point which he wasn't too pleased about having to get to in the first place. He sighed,

"On another note, Doctor Artz, the reason I asked Alana – uh – Doctor Bloom to approach you and the reason I called you here is because our little team is in a little bit of a crisis – "

"I approached Doctor Bloom,"

"I'm sorry?"

"I feel it important to tell you that I approached Doctor Bloom, not the other way around. I overheard her talking to someone else about the matter and I was fascinated so, I am a little ashamed to tell you, I used my seniority to gain access,"

She did look a little guilty; it was amusing but most people would choose to stay away from a case like this.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," he repeated her own words back to her knowingly,

"Anyway, we've got a friend against a friend here and we're a close-knit team, we're practically a family. We can't snoop around each other and the problem is one is incarcerated and is blaming the hell out of someone else, Doctor Lecter, you know him?"

"Of him," she nodded,

"One of many,"

"I'm sure. Please," she gestured for him to carry on, "Continue,"

He did,

"Doctor Lecter and Doctor Bloom both diagnosed him with encephalitis but he's claiming sanity and we have to investigate Doctor Lecter and we have but what bothers me is…"

"You think that you haven't done it properly because he's a friend. I've got it,"

"I may have missed something because I don't want to see it,"

"What about the man who is incarcerated?"

"His name's Will Graham and he was my friend too,"

"Was?" her eye-brow perked up and she cocked her head, she knew better and so did Jack,

"Is,"

Suddenly it dawned on him – she had an accent, subtle but noticeable. When he first met her, there wasn't enough that was said for him to realise it but here in the quiet when their space was calm, he picked it up. Her unusual name would make more sense if it meant she wasn't from Baltimore. It truly was subtle though – the origin unclear as it sounded like a mixture of things, having been in the States for so long must have tainted it somewhat and made it difficult to tell,

"Doctor Artz, you have an unusual name,"  
"German,"

"Ah, really?"

"Indeed, German family – I was born in Germany and then when I was nine, we moved to Ghana and then I left and went back to Europe and spent most of that time in Scotland where I studied and then I found myself here,"

"Ghana huh? What put you there?"

"My Father was in the military,"

"What happened?" the atmosphere darkened somewhat along with Artz eyes, despite her distant smile, "Long story I'd rather not get into, forgive me,"

"No need," Jack gathered some papers and knocked them on the desk as he always did to signal the end drawing nearer, "Well, Doctor, can you be our outsider and…well…"

"Define sanity?" she offered ironically and Jack had to chuckle,

"Yeah, clear 'em all,"

"I can do my best. I'll have to talk to them both though I'm sure you are aware,"

"Of course, Will Graham is who you'll be looking for in the Baltimore State Prison and Doctor Lecter, if you enjoy fancy dinner parties and such, you can meet at next week's social gathering – if you will. I'll be sure to tell him you're coming although I'm sure you'll meet him before then,"

She nodded,

"No doubt but I can only offer you my best," she stated again, as if clearing herself of responsibility for any future mishaps. He accepted that. She didn't seem to say much more than was necessary and it seemed like such a genuine trait – she certainly was an interesting character this one.

They stood and Jack showed Doctor Artz to the door at which they shook hands again and he opened it to find Doctor Bloom getting ready to knock,

"Doctor Artz!" Alana's face was one of shock, "Jack,"

"Doctor Bloom," Artz smiled, "I'll be seeing you soon, both of you I'm sure. Don't hesitate to call if there's anything else,"

She smiled and left while Jack and Alana waved her off and away,

"Alana," Jack greeted her, drawing Alana's attention away from Artz. She turned and followed suit as Jack stepped aside to let her in. She took a seat when Jack had rounded his desk to take his own for the umpteenth time that day,

"So what do you think?" Alana crossed her legs and sat back while Jack placed his hands under his chin in a sort of pyramid, his position of thought,

"She's different," which was true,

"She's smart, Jack," which was also true, "Weirdly so, I dare say she'd give Hannibal a run for his money,"

"She's good? You sure?"

"I have no doubt,"

"How do you know her?"

"Can't really remember – we weren't in the same class if not even in the same year – no idea. I really don't know much about her, really. She approached me,"

"I heard,"

"Oh, she told you?"

"She looked guilty," Jack's lips quirked up at the memory,

"Ha, no, she approached me and bombarded me with reasons why she would love to help that I couldn't not just say 'yes'. The other guy I was chatting to, to take the job didn't seem to interested,"

"Hmm…well," Jack dropped his hands, his feelings on the matter still in a wee bit of turmoil but trust and all will be well, "I suppose we'll wait and see,"

"I guess so,"

OoOoOoO

Alana left Jack's office with Hannibal Lecter in mind and to Hannibal Lecter she found her car being driven. She knocked three times and leaned on the doorframe. He opened it, his sleeves rolled up, apron on, hair dishevelled; he'd been cooking,

"Alana," he smiled and stepped aside to allow her to pass. She glided through the door, her thoughts dragging behind her. She allowed Hannibal to gather them for her,

"A penny for them?"

"We've got a new doctor involved in our dealings,"

"We do," Hannibal started for the kitchen drawing a hand out in front of him for her to follow. He dug into his fridge and paused for a minute, contemplating that which lay within, before he gracefully slid it across and took out a beer for Alana, handing it to her with a knowing wink,

"Thanks," she toasted him and continued, "Jack's still suspicious of everything so he's brought her in to do a little more brain work, if you will,"

"I will. Who is…"

"She, her name is Doctor Guido Artz,"

"Ah, from Europe…Doctor Artz," Hannibal continued with his work, whipping up the eggs like there was no tomorrow.

"Yeah, I would think so. To be honest, I don't know much about her. She approached me about the case when she overheard me talking to someone else about it,"

"Someone with an eye and ear for detail,"

"She definitely is," Alana snorted, "She's someone who could make you shake in your boots,"

"How so?" Hannibal looked up, bemused,

"She's almost like a replica of you,"

"Hmm…"

Alana watched Hannibal's face contort into an expression she'd never seen before. She didn't know where to place it – anger? No. Disapproval? Was it possible that Hannibal Lecter was discontent with having another like him? Alana only realised how intently she was watching Hannibal when he looked up with raised eyebrows and a look of bewilderment,

"Alana put that frown away; it has no place in my kitchen,"

"Sorry," she shook her head,

"What were you thinking?"

"About you and your face,"

His face softened and he cocked his head,

"Your verdict?"

"Not sure,"

"Come Alana, you were my best student, what's your verdict?"

"You're unpredictable,"

Hannibal chuckled,

"I wonder what Doctor Artz would think of that," he smirked as if he had come up with a way to make himself, once again, indistinguishably different from Artz. Alana felt her frown again; something was telling her that Lecter knew more about Artz than he was letting on,

"Hannibal?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you heard of her?"

"In passing, yes," he looked up again, "Why? Am I giving away too much?" he teased but Alana wasn't so sure,

"Too little," she tried to tease back but it didn't feel right. Hannibal ignored her serious jest and didn't change the subject and instead sent it in a direction that would be easier to deal with,

"I expect I'll be seeing her at my dinner party next week, then?"

"Yes,"

"You will be there too, yes?"

"Of course," she responded as if it were the world's dumbest question taking a flirtatious sip of her beer,

"Good. It'll be good to have old friends for dinner again,"

It was late when Alana left, 11pm to be exact. She was beginning to wonder if telling Hannibal about Artz's involvement was the right thing to do – Jack might well be extremely peeved about her being an informant. But then again, who was he to keep questioning Hannibal's innocence? She felt all her guilt slip away to be replaced by her previous rage against Jack about the matter. Sure, he was confused, they all were but Will had been proven guilty, the evidence was unbelievably compelling and on two occasions when the Ripper had struck true and Jack had come knocking; Alana had come storming down the stairs in Hannibal's shirt and proved her point.

Jack, after both instances left in a state disbelief fused with horror. It may have been comical but Alana was too angry to see the humour at the time.

On her way home, in her fury, she got the strong desire for a Hot Chocolate. It was her source of comfort when shit went downhill, fast. She pulled over at a local, late night coffee shop about 10 minutes from her house and walked in only to find none other than Doctor Artz sitting there with a pile of papers, a pen and not one but two empty coffee mugs and a third in her hand – 12pm by that time,

"Doctor Artz?" Alana stopped a few meters from her table. Artz looked up, her eyes heavy but her legs were buzzing, the caffeine working on the energy alas the exhaustion all but extinguished,

"Doctor Bloom, I am surprised,"

"So am I," Alana's eyes were wide, she knew, she genuinely – was in a state of astonishment, "What are you doing here so late?"

Artz sighed and looked down at her papers, endless scribbles of smart words in the wrong places. Alana knew exactly what that was,

"Marking essays, I told my students I'd have it done by tomorrow but given the circumstances, that was the worst idea I have ever had,"

Alana grimaced,

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"Please,"

She made a quick order for her drink of desire and made her way back to sit down opposite Doctor Artz,

"So," said she, "What brings you here in the middle of the night?"

"On my way home from visiting a friend…I live around the corner,"

"Oh right,"

"Yeah, I wanted my Hot Chocolate,"

"Fair enough," Artz raised her coffee mug to her thin lips and took a sip before placing the mug down in submission, "I've only just started these and there are 133 people in my class. I'm not going to finish this am I?"

Alana shook her head and gave Artz her honest answer,

"No,"

"Well then," Artz dropped her pen and looked up, content with her decision.

"I was at Doctor Lecter's house," Alana started, "I think I should put this out there now."

"Ok,"

"I do not think, at all, that Doctor Lecter is in anyway guilty. The evidence against Will Graham is undeniable and therefore, I'm sorry to say, but I do think your being involved is a bit of a waste of your time. Especially when you have 133 essays to mark,"

"133, 3 page essays to mark," Artz corrected scornfully but upon returning to the topic, her face regained its assertiveness, "I understand. Thanks for telling me,"

"No problem, I just – you know - I apologise in advance,"

One beat went by as the two women considered each other,

"Did you go and see Doctor Lecter specifically to tell him of my involvement?"

The question caught Alana off-guard and the expression on Artz's face didn't ease the shock either and what was worse, Alana wasn't particularly sure. Her relationship with Hannibal Lecter had changed dramatically over the course of two weeks and now whenever she went to him she wasn't sure whether it was for the sex, for the food, the comfort, the man or as the informant…or all of the above. It wasn't necessarily Artz's business anyway,

"No, I went there because I could and it just came up as most things do. We're both in the same situation, there's not much we hide," of all the truths she had told that day, that wasn't one of them and Artz seemed to pick that up instantly but said nothing of it.

"I'm sure Doctor Lecter has nothing to hide,"

Alana could feel the uncertainty below that statement. And so it should be, she guessed. She was there to figure out who was who in this mess and do a better job of it – she _was_ there to do a job. But Alana felt the anger rise again.

"Will you be talking to Will Graham as well?"

"Of course," Artz's eyes softened and Alana felt instantly relieved, the tension was over, "I plan to see him tomorrow evening, with Jack's permission,"

"With Doctor Chilten's permission as well," Alana added, bitterness on the tip of her tongue,

"You'll find out soon enough,"

"Sounds exciting," Artz leant back in her chair in perplexity.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, he's just infuriating,"

"Ah,"

Alana took the last sip of her Hot Chocolate and said her goodbyes to Doctor Guido Artz who waved her off with an uncharacteristic peace sign but then again, Alana still wasn't sure of Doctor Artz's character at all. She felt very much like Jack looked after his encounter with Artz: Uncertain.

OoOoOoO

As Alana left, a man waited in the shadows. Once Alana had driven off, this man made his own way into the coffee house towards Doctor Artz who had bravely taken up her pen once more to attempt to mark again but when the man pulled up the chair and took a seat uninvited; all was instantly forgotten as the look of determined concentration on her face gave way to expectant disbelief, as if she couldn't believe her luck was as bad as it was and yet she should have seen it coming. She leant back elegantly and crossed her legs,

"Well…that was a little faster than I anticipated,"

The man admired her blasé attitude towards him. He admired a great many things about her including her indifference – a knew trait he gave himself credit for – as well as her persistence,

"Wasn't it?"

She nodded and waited for him to continue; he could feel her rage and as his eyes swooped down her body, reliving the moment when he plunged his knife deep into her stomach. Hers was a miraculous recovery. He imagined what the scar looked like and smiled. When his eyes swooped back up and met hers, he felt as if their battle was starting again and so he bought her a cup of coffee and leant back and there they sat.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack and Dr Artz made their way through the Baltimore State Prison in more of an amble; Jack was reluctant to see Will so soon and Dr Artz, in moments where conversation was lacking, was so far away he wondered if he'd ever be able to draw her back and so he wondered if perhaps he was looking at another Will Graham and not another Dr Lecter…or worse…both.

Dr Artz was tired, he could see that. Heavy bags swooped in giant crescents below her eyes, dragging her eyelids down; her face was pale and her eyes bright. She didn't seem as elegant today as if some of her fire had been put out. At which point Jack stopped dead, turning to Dr Artz,

"Are you alright? You don't look so good,"

She gave him a tired, droopy eyed smile, hiding nothing and giving way to submission,

"I'm exhausted. Longest night of my life, running into new and old friends and then trying to mark 133 essays due for ten this morning and I still have 20 left and 20 angry students…I've had a long night and a longer day, Agent Crawford,"

Jack felt as if a little bond had been formed in that admittance. The explanation for her welfare was quite blunt and it seemed so human. Both Dr Lecter and Dr Bloom had this annoying quality that kept them from ever admitting to weakness be it as explosive as a terminal illness or as fickle as a long night worth of marking and no sleep. Dr Artz was tired and she said so and she embellished her story – she was not a miraculous super-human as all psychiatrists were supposed to be or so Jack Crawford was lead to believe.

"Jack," he corrected her with a comforting smile – he knew all too well what it was like to be tired beyond belief. She looked at him, considered his offer and nodded,

"Guido, then…despite the oddity,"

"I've heard stranger; to be honest Dr Lecter's name was one I found a little disconcerting,"

Jack gestured for them to continue through the halls of the prison, nearing the door to Chilton's office,

"Why's that?"

"Just…like yours, a little different. And then I put a face to the name and never have I been so wrong in my assumptions,"

Guido chuckled,

"To err is human,"

With that they arrived at the door Jack was so tired of knocking on and yet, he knocked. Chilton opened it cautiously and then widened it with a look of sarcastic excitement, allowing them to enter without saying to much other than a polite smile to the new comer.

"Dr Chilton, this is Dr Artz,"

"Oh, fetching," he said with a twist, taking her hand to shake, "Yet another doctor in your midst, Agent Crawford! If you're not careful you won't know who's inside your head,"

Jack glanced at Guido, who was taking Chilton in with a frown; reading him,

"I know exactly who is in my head thank you, Dr Chilton,"

"Well, I hope so," Chilton turned swiftly from them both, using his cane as leverage and continuing on to a book on his desk, opening it and then turning back to Jack in exasperation, "Why is it that you feel you can turn up here without an appointment? You may be an agent but this is a heavily guarded prison – people don't just come and go,"

"A) Shiat up, B) Will is my guy and as a response to your prison statement; who do you think made it so? I'm FBI Chilton, don't question me. I can easily do the same and I have _reason_ too,"

Jack felt Guido's eyes on him, he could feel her questioning him over his blackmailing methods but he kept his eyes firmly on Chilton who did as Jack expected him to do,

"Be that as it may, you make it so abundantly clear that you don't care much for what I do here so I won't take that seriously. On the other hand, Will Graham being your guy and all, I suppose I should get him into a cage,"

"Good move," Jack said sharply as Chilton did what he said he should.

"A cage?" Guido asked, confusion on her face,

"Yes," Chilton replied, his hands fiddling with documents as he prepared to push the buzzer beneath them, "A cage. The glass room is occupied and because there is no reason for you to hand him anything, there is no reason for you to sit at a table with him,"

"Is that not a little barbaric?"

"Barbaric punishment for barbaric people, Dr Artz,"

Jack glanced at Guido, awaiting her response, only she gave none. Only her face conveyed her disapproval towards Chilton's opinion. They heard him speak into the intercom, calling prison guards and such and then he turned to them once more, blessing them with his full attention,

"I will be accompanying you this very fine day,"

"Why's that?" Jack narrowed his eyes while Chilton smiled pompously at him,

"He is my patient, I have an obligation towards his well-being and when there is an agent and a psychiatrist coming in to examine him from outside this building, I believe I have a right to know what's going on,"

No one said anything in that regard for in the spirit of true annoyance, Dr Chilton was right. A beat went by before a feint knock in the door signalled the arrival of the trio's escort. When Chilton opened the door and stood aside to let Jack and Guido past, Jack heard her say, just aloud enough for amusement or for annoyance,

"Three's a crowd,"

OoOoOoO

Will Graham sat in his cage contemplating the dealings of the FBI, his being framed, Dr Lecter, Jack, Beverly; everything. He wondered why Jack was back again so soon, he wondered when Dr Lecter would be caught and above all, he wondered when someone might tell him that they believed him again and then it would be three knowing vigilante's out to get Lecter and then there'd be no escape. The thought made him smile; _one day._

"Hello, Will,"

"Hello Jack, Dr Chilton," Will did a double take as the third member of their little party stepped into his line of sight, "And who are you?"

"I'm Dr Artz," she introduced herself before Jack had a chance to even open his mouth. Will's mood dropped immediately, he had people psycho-analysing him for weeks prior to all of this, then one man driving him psycho full stop and then another trying to dissect him once more – Dr Chilton. He was done with doctors.

"Why are you here?" he asked darkly, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at her. In the moments where Jack was explaining who she was, he did his own analyses. She was elegant, an air of intelligence floated about her being like a bubble – effortless and yet not arrogant. It simply was.

What else was there – she was calm and collected, seemingly content with listening before analysing, a capability to not analyse at all was there too and yet the way she was regarding him was one of power. Not threatening but it held potential, it was not to be messed with.

"Will?"

Will turned to Jack who was looking at him expectantly but for the life of him, he had heard nothing,

"Hmm?"

"I said she's here to talk to you. We're conducting a more thorough investigation between you and Dr Lecter, she's our outsider – so be happy,"

"I am happy, Jack," he cocked his head ironically. When Jack said nothing to retort, he nodded, "Thanks. So, Dr Artz, what do you want to talk to me about?"

"We don't have to talk about much,"

"How will you analyse me?"

"People don't need to be talked too to be analysed,"

Will leant back, wondering what she had confirmed or dismissed.

"Body language?"

She nodded.

"Right then," Jack piped up then, turning briefly to Dr Chilton who was staring at Guido with malcontent, "Dr Artz, Dr Chilton and I will be right outside of you need anything,"

He started and only got so far before he turned back to threaten Chilton with arrest if he did not do as was ordered by the head of the BSU. He was FBI, bitch.

When Artz and Will were alone, their silence continued as they regarded each other. Not too much longer before she pulled up a chair and took a seat,

"I hope you don't mind,"

"Not at all,"

She crossed her legs, folded her hands over her knees and replicated Lecter so much so that Will took a deep breath in to stay the angst.

"Are you alright?"

So she noticed his discomfort - that was interesting. He looked about his cage and shrugged. She smiled guiltily. But Will didn't want to waste time, if she had already analysed him without speaking to him then he wanted the verdict – he wanted to know whether to love her or hate her. Alana Bloom had let him down in more ways than just one.

"What's your opinion of me?"

She frowned and cocked her head,

"You analysed me already, no? So what's your verdict?"

"I don't need one; I know what you are,"

He stopped.

"You _know_ what I am…and what is that, Dr Artz?"

"A great many things – good, bad and absurd,"

"You know this how?"

She smiled, her eyes dead-panning him however,

"Does it matter?"

"You seem angry,"

"I have a mind for revenge,"

"You have a bone to pick," Will's head dropped. This wasn't an investigation for her, she didn't care who he was – only what he had "done", "Is it with me?"

Stupid question but he had to be sure despite himself but her face contorted into one of bemusement and he found himself frowning, becoming more assertive,

"No," she said, shaking her head, almost shocked by such a proclamation, "No, I don't know you,"

It didn't take Will long to catch on and yet it was almost too good to be true considering what he had been thinking about only minutes before,

"Dr Lecter…how do you know him?"

She thought about her response carefully before she gave it to him,

"I, like Miss Katz and like you, figured it out. Got too close, I was meant to die only – "

"You didn't,"

"I didn't," she unbuttoned her blouse just enough to reveal a deep, angry scar over her abdomen and as far as Will's unqualified medicinal knowledge could tell, that should have been fatal, "I was in the way and ready to rat him out so he did this and left me to die but I don't remember anything after that. 6 Weeks of my life were taken from me during intensive care and I had to begin anew for if I stayed where I was and Dr Lecter found me, well, once is all very well and dandy and he'll laugh but there's no second chance. If you stay in there and I keep hiding then the only other people who are even remotely aware of what's going on, don't want to open their eyes because the light will be blinding. The Ripper shall reign supreme,"

"It's a fair claim, so why are you here?"

She leant forward, her eyes lighting up as if she were excited about telling him a secret,

"To conspire, Mr Graham!"

Will looked at her in a stunned stupor for moment. If his instincts were still the instincts he trusted not too long ago, then despite the all too natural urge for revenge (which was acceptable in most cases), the woman sitting in front of him now may well be just as much of a monster as Dr Lecter, only she was most probably driven by a violent rage towards the thief than the thief's passive aggression towards the rude, the similarity being that they both wore an incredibly well tailored – what did Bedelia say – person suit.

Therein lay Will's key to redemption or a deeper hole; therein lay the key to Dr _Artz'_ revenge and redemption or the finality of death. But Will was overcome, he had someone on his side – the opportunity was placed before him again, his own monster stirring once more,

"What do you have in mind?"

"Not much,"

The let down to end all catastrophic let downs,

"Excuse the blatancy, Dr Artz, but that's highly disappointing,"

"I can only tell you what I want. If you do the same, we'll go from there,"

"I want to play his game,"

"Ah,"

"Don't you?"

"No," she sighed, "I want the privilege of walking down this very hall and giving a most languid bow while he sits in a cramped cage. Yours, if it pleases you – yours without you in it to be sure,"

"So let's play his game and get him in here,"

"I spoke to Dr Gideon not too long ago, I believe you did too?"

"What did he tell you?"

"The same thing as he probably told you – that your tactic for revenge is admirable but severely impractical,"

"He said something like that – only he paraphrased it with the usage of the word 'smoke',"

"You can't catch smoke,"

"Yes,"

"Nor can you play with it,"

Will went silent and Artz had nothing to say. Would they have to kill him? Is that what she was saying? Or were they heading down the good old fashioned route that was conspiring with a plan to outwit him but once, enough to get the FBI to open their eyes.

"Sometimes, to be simple is the best way to get things done,"

The latter seemed apparent,

"So a onetime plan and if nothing happens, you make a run for it?"

"No, no this has to work. Between you and me, Mr Graham, I have run into Dr Lecter already. He knows why I'm here and I'm in the way again. It won't take him long to figure out a way to remove me but for the time being, I'm safe with the FBI. But like I said, time is of the essence and I can see you're confused so I'll give you time to think,"

She rose, straightening her blouse,

"I'll come back tomorrow; I'll come back with a plan and please do have another. That is, if you're interested," she sighed, "I know my ending, Mr Graham, do you know yours?"

And she was gone.

Will knew what he wanted. He knew how he wanted it. He didn't know if he wanted to do it with this woman. He couldn't gauge her – he couldn't figure who or what she was and she seemed equally as capable of playing with his head as Dr Lecter although he got the quiet sense that she was not going to press him anyway. As if she already knew his answer and was waiting for him to figure it out himself – or at least to find the words to express it.

OoOoOoO

Chilton wafted along just behind Jack Crawford and Dr Artz and his opinion of her was simple. He didn't like her – it was the same sort of feeling he got with Dr Lecter. He loved and hated the man, admired him and despised him. The epitome of what he wanted to be perceived as only he would never reach that stage. His talents were still in the discovery room.

This woman was another one of those infuriatingly bright souls who held their own talents with humble pride although Chilton had no doubt that Lecter sometimes used his intelligence in a not so humble manner to gain an advantage over a lesser being.

He couldn't work out Artz but the one thing he did prize himself on was his instincts and how they were very rarely wrong. Artz was hiding something, far from what she appeared to be and he wondered what it might be? Was it the slight lean she had to her left – a limp, perhaps, but not quite; was it her quiet disposition or was that just today? He would let Jack Crawford work it out. He asked her to get involved; he made his bed and if the chaos brewing in the pot were to boil over, then he shall just have to sleep in it. It wasn't Chilton's problem. He didn't bother with wishing them farewell; they could get themselves out just fine. As they passed his office, he slipped inside and shut the door with a click; the only noise that would alert them to his departure.

OoOoOoO

Jack and Artz walked out without a word until they were outside the confines of the prison. Once out, Artz looked into the sun. The sun fell onto her face like the dawn,

"Well,"

"Well," Jack turned to her, their two separate cars awaiting their respective drivers, "What do you think?"

Artz looked at him and she looked amused,

"I think we're all now sitting on the graceful shoulders of choice; waiting for someone to choose to do something stupid – or perhaps awaiting the consequences of someone who already has,"

Jack frowned,

"And who do you think that person is?"

Artz glanced at her car and snorted,

"Me!"

Jack was stunned as he watched her walk away; wondering perhaps if she were being funny, honest or drawing attention to the fact that the game they were playing was a dangerous one.

Or all of the above.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack sat at his desk earlier than was necessary one particular, crispy morning. He was raiding recent reports on murders and attempted murders and he was disappointed by all of them, all of them being so futile – one's that the FBI could solve without his help, ones that he wished he could be called for anyway.

The day before, looking at the second man having been displayed in a gruesome, manky, some-parts-missing sort of way; Jack had admitted to himself, admitted just how badly he wished that were true, that JUST once, he'd be called upon to solve futility. Maybe one day but this day - these days! Were for the ripper.

Hannibal waltzed the area in his beautiful suit and tie covered only by an expensive coat and two blue gloves, no less, in support of the cause - one would assume. He bent over every now and then with a frown and then he'd get up and drift elegantly over to a different part of the scene and do the same. Jack watched him acutely, comparing him without intention, to Will Graham. His conclusion was that Hannibal was damn near just as good if not…the same.

"What's your thinking, doctor?" Jack asked, having seen enough of the scene head on. He couldn't take his eyes off the head before him and as it would appear, the head couldn't take its eyes off Jack either.

Hannibal made his way back around the display to stand beside Jack,

"An offering,"

"Of what?"

"Good faith,"

Jack looked at Hannibal with a gaze deader than that of the head before them,

"He's mocking me,"

"Well," Hannibal turned his own gaze to the body and then surveyed the team around them, "Not just you,"

Jack had never felt such rage at his own loss. Loss…he was lost now but he refused to admit _that_ as he read through all the reports. His wife was terminally ill, his best friend was incarcerated, his other close friend was being accused by the convicted and Jack had now brought in a new doctor who he was unsure of anyway and yet felt an equally as strong urge to talk to her about his issues as he did when he first started to speak to Dr Lecter on casual terms.

He had also yet to tell Dr Lecter of his intended, extra visitor. How very rude of him. He considered it a distraction and launched out of his chair, eager to escape his desk which was feeling more and more like his own prison. It didn't take him long before he got to Lecter's office and knocked on the door, to which the good doctor answered with a slight look of surprise,

"Jack - good to see you…Come in,"

Jack walked in with a deep breath and turned to face the doctor whence he heard the door click,

"I'm sorry to impose on you so early, Doctor,"

"No need to be. Please," he gestured to the seat opposite his own. Jack declined, knowing that if he sat down, the chances of his getting up were slim,

"How can I help you, Jack? Is there something wrong?"

"No, none at all," a lie, he and Lecter both knew it, "I came to ask your permission on something with regards to your dinner party tomorrow evening and an extra guest. I apologise for it being such a late request but every time I thought to ask, something more pressing came up,"

"And who is this guest?"

"An old acquaintance of Alana Bloom. She, by the request of Will Graham, is our outsider. We need a more thorough investigation,"

"I'm being investigated,"

Hannibal Lecter looked genuinely hurt but Jack, in such circumstances couldn't give a shit less as to what other people felt about his being thorough with his job. The Chesapeake Ripper was the most wanted man in the country, the problem being that nobody knew who the fuck he was and those who did were dead. If there was any chance of the Ripper being right in front of his eyes, he was not going to miss it despite how much he might want to, given the circumstances that could potentially unfold.

"Strategic reasons but tomorrow won't be an investigation. I just want you to meet her and visa versa. Get a feel for each other. I don't want to do it any more than you but I do just want this whole thing done. And soon,"

Lecter dropped his head as if guilty of feeling hurt by Jack seemingly doing his job. He nodded, quick and curt,

"If it helps you, then by all means, but please, no proper investigation tomorrow. Tomorrow evening is for us to forget the outside world for once,"

Jack agreed sullenly though he felt that if he were to forget the outside world, he'd have to forget Hannibal, his dinner parties, Will Graham and his job and start fresh. The crimes that were starting up again had gotten them all involved in one chaotic mess from which there was no escape and as Jack had so loudly told Alana, there was no one to place complete trust in.

He was on the precipice of Nowhere Land, where to take a step over the edge would be to fall into turmoil with no direction and to take a step back would be…nothing.

Jack regarded Hannibal with his hands in his pockets and his eyes narrowed.

"Feels like there's no one out there," he finally said and he left, alone, closing the door behind him with Hannibal staring after him in a mild stupor.

OoOoOoO

Hannibal was preparing his house for the dinner; his delicacies deserved the best presentation he could offer it. He enjoyed the moments before the people arrived, marvelling at all he had achieved; with his life, with his house, his manipulations…his person-suit. He had done well in covering up the monstrosities that lay in plain sight. Alana was a plus too, he had been waiting for years, that woman was hard to catch but was she not the one to kiss him first at the end of the day? If he weren't defined by class and elegance, Hannibal may have hi-fived himself but alas, his fine art was unravelling at the seams. He had underestimated Will's and Jack Crawford's relationship, initially dismissing it as merely professional and easily let go of but seeing as how Jack had heeded Will's plea for a more thorough investigation posed a more challenging prospect. If Jack truly believed Will to be the murderer Hannibal had gotten him accused of, then Jack wouldn't bother, the challenging prospect being made worse having Dr Artz brought into the picture. He had been wondering when Jack might bring her up.

It was a complex web he had gotten everyone roped in to, he had quite stupidly forgotten that if someone were smart enough to follow the web back to his fingertips, all would go pear shaped and he would have no control over the situation. Artz already knew that these webs were his; she only needed to get Jack and the rest of them to follow her to him then again, her sudden re-involvement was a fluke. He needed a plan.

"Meeting" her that night would be a fine way to well and truly start their game; dancing together in the lion's pit. He smiled as the doorbell rang; there was a lot at stake for both of them. Who would get there first?

"Alana!"

Alana stepped gracefully through his door in a stunning blue dress which he admired gratefully, especially the way it clung to her petite frame. Hannibal Lecter MD may well be an elegant, intelligent psychiatrist who enjoyed the beauty of life and death immensely but he was also a mere man. Hungry for more than the immaculate…

"Hello Hannibal,"

"Is it just you?"

"I was hoping you'd be my date?"

"I would have arrived with you but…"

Alana smiled, suppressing a laugh that would be an 'at' more than a 'with'. Bad joke, Hannibal didn't like jokes much, not that he didn't like smiling or laughing, but jokes were often another word for sarcastic wit which Hannibal had no taste for. Funny, as that was what Will Graham seemed to exist on. Ah, Will Graham.

One guest, two guest, three guest, four, five guests, six guests, seven guests more until at last he opened the door and there stood Jack Crawford and company but Hannibal looked straight past him at Artz whose eyes glinted in the half-light just beyond his door-frame.

"Please come in,"

"Thank you! Doctor Lecter, this is Doctor Guido Artz," Jack stepped aside to allow the two doctors to shake hands - the pact being made, the rules being set; no foul play.

"Doctor Artz, good to meet you,"

Artz hesitated a moment, her words getting stuck at the back of her throat,

"…yeah,"

Jack obviously misread the situation and chimed in with a knowing,

"He has that effect on people," and he gave a most unsubtle nod towards Alana Bloom who raised her eyebrows at him. Hannibal glanced at Jack and then at Alana who shook her head at him while Artz looked equally as taken aback by Jack's raw comment as the rest of them.

In that particular moment, the three of them were a team, all bewildered and left in a slightly awkward state as Jack moved off to survey, Hannibal could only assume. It didn't take him long to find Chilton. That would be another tough one…Chilton was a slimy one and he wasn't stupid.

Alana wound her way over to them soon too, them being Lecter and Artz,

"Hello Doctor Artz," she smiled warmly as Artz smiled back, "How are you? Did you get your marking done?"

Artz shook her head sullenly,

"No, after you left I had a fall out with…" she paused and Hannibal waited to hear who she had a fall out with, wondering if she'd be so bold as to bring up their meeting and put him in the spotlight so soon, "The coffee matron,"

Alana laughed while Hannibal felt rather amused, himself. Artz looked altogether ashamed and he admired how she still found a way to be light hearted despite being in his company. They had gotten on well together once, he might have even called her friend but that was before she found out about him. That was before he tried to kill her, before he found out she was still alive and found a way to threaten her without seeing her, should she tell anyone – he'd find a way to come for her. And as a fair player, he had to respect her for she was still playing by the rules. Technically she was not going to tell anyone about him, their meeting had confirmed that, but she was going to urge the people that mattered to find out for themselves with her discreet help.

"Really? The coffee matron?" Alana was still giggling.

"…yes," Alana and Artz shared their own moment there with Hannibal's permission of course.

"So, Doctor Artz," Hannibal slipped in, Artz turned her attention to him as did Alana, "Your name is clearly not of local origin,"

"No, Doctor Lecter, it is not,"

"Europe,"

"Yes,"

"Germany?"

"Yes,"

"Why move?"

"Same as most,"

"Ah,"

"What are most people's reasons may I ask?" that was Alana, "I'm original, I don't know why people would come here? Baltimore for God's Sake,"

"Well, Baltimore was the land of opportunity once,"

"Once? I'm quite happy here," Hannibal challenged at which Alana sighed,

"Yeah, well given everything that's happened, I wouldn't mind being somewhere else,"

"Take a holiday, I would recommend Bosnia,"

Alana looked at Artz incredulously,

"Bosnia,"

Artz shrugged but then she took in a short, sharp breath,

"Doctor Lecter, you seem like a well-travelled man, where have you been?"

_Subtle, Doctor Artz_ Hannibal thought, mildly annoyed as Alana looked curiously at him. Hannibal had indeed been travelling but that was because people started catching on in other places too. Baltimore was where he ran too – for personal and criminal reasons. Doctor Artz knew that from digging,

"I've been many places,"

"Where and why the look?" He knew Alana would ask, then again, who wouldn't but he'd hoped he had contained enough 'I don't want to talk about it' in his expression to sway her to do otherwise but Alana wouldn't be Alana if she abided by those expressions…nor would she be she if she did not call him out for them.

"All over Europe, a part of Asia and then I came here," he smiled hoping it would be enough and it was about to not be but then his chance to pay back Artz appeared on a silver platter and Hannibal was quick to drive their topic of conversation towards the tasting of his food.

"Ah, Dr Artz, Alana, won't you try some?"

Alana was quick to oblige, popping whatever it was in her mouth without question and closing her eyes to the taste during which Hannibal turned his smug eyes to Artz who was, for lack of a better explanation, stuck. He could see her mind racing, she knew full well what it was or what she thought it was.

"I'm vegetarian, Doctor, became one only six years ago. Had an incident with a bad discovery about the origins of the meat I was eating,"

Hannibal narrowed his eyes and Alana came too,

"That's a shame because this is beautiful,"

"Not too much of a shame actually," Hannibal said as if it were a matter of fact, "This is a vegetarian starter although I advise to stay away from the rest,"

"Really?"

"Yes," he turned his attention back to Alana who looked suspicious and Hannibal had no doubt Artz was appreciative of the support but Dr Lecter knew his food,

"Yes, soya mince," and he smiled, "Good for your body,"

All eyes were on Artz now and Hannibal revelled in her defeat as she glanced at the very obviously, meaty dish before her. She smiled, accepting her cheeky defeat and picked up a skewer and put in her mouth and thanked Hannibal and his waiter for it.

"Good?"

She looked at him again, her eyes hardening, _don't push me. _To which he responded with an equally as hard, _don't test me._

It was a futile defence but at least he could tell her later that he warned her.

"It's grand, Dr Lecter," she mocked and he felt a twang of annoyance, she thanked him and he expected her to say it with a wee bit of malice but so non-chelate was almost infuriating.

The night wore on and it was just them for most of it, the three of them conversing while Dr Artz and Dr Lecter had their little digs at each other. A knew sort of pun and a very different innuendo. Hannibal was tiring of the conversations, however and he was contemplating making that clear but then the opportunity presented itself again,

"That's just like Jack to do that to someone," Alana scowled, her face conveying her distaste for Jack Crawford's behaviour on the subject of Will and Hannibal's relationship. She was referring to Jack's investigating Hannibal. Indiscreetly. Twice.

"I'm sure he's got his reasons,"

"What exactly is your purpose, Dr Artz?" Hannibal asked rather pointedly,

"To help the FBI in their deciphering of code, if you will,"

"So you are investigating me,"

"What do you think?"

Suddenly Alana was gone, silent in the sudden head-on collision,

"You know what I think but I would like to know the truth. I'm a strange character; I feel I'll have to hold some things in check if it's for my benefit,"

"Don't do that…or do if you have something to hide,"

"Absolutely nothing, it would be for your protection,"

"I appreciate but I don't think you know what I'm capable of, Dr Lecter, I don't need protecting anymore,"

"Nor you, me, Dr Artz and if that is the way you feel then I shall do my best to help you,"

"Hang on," Alana had stopped gaping and burst in, "Did I just miss something because that conversation was quite suddenly severe,"

"Oh no," Dr Artz flashed a smile at Alana who looked hesitant, "No, Dr Lecter and I appear to have an understanding of one another,"

Hannibal nodded and looked side on at Alana.

OoOoOoO

Alana felt like an outsider in that moment, the way Artz and Hannibal looked at her, almost leaning into each other's personal space, the look of a mismatched team again. Only Alana was suddenly eliminated and now was confused out of her mind with regards to what had so quickly taken place – in a blink.

Something had happened and they sure did have an understanding of one another but it wasn't a clean one; the sudden, unsettling feeling that she was once again in the company of not one, but two doctors who knew more than they let on. She excused herself then and departed and made for Jack with haste she tried to hide,

"Jack,"

Jack Crawford turned to her from Chilton who nodded like a duck and moved off, the word,

"Darwinism," slipping from his lips as he did so, making Jack smile ironically.

"Alana," said he,

"What is Artz's purpose?"

"What do you mean? You know full well what –"

"Jack, Hannibal and Artz have some sort of history; I can…feel it,"

"You feel it? Alana, Dr Artz assures me that she doesn't know him at all. Granted his name doesn't count,"

"You're sure?"

"…No,"

Alana could only convey her bewilderment in her face,

"But," he carried on, "Does it matter, if she knows him or not? Will, will either have someone on his side and we'll have someone to catch or we'll have someone to dismiss and we can all relax on that front,"

"Hannibal is not the killer, Jack,"

"You know this?"

"You don't?!"

"Alana we can't have this conversation here,"

Alana was infuriated and she knew it was starting to show on her fair skin but Jack was right, having a conversation about Hannibal's being or not being the Ripper in Hannibal's house was not wise and not to mention rude.

She turned to leave Jack and retreat back to Artz and Lecter only Artz had abandoned Lecter with an expression that would appear to be more annoyed than Alana thought her own face might look; Hannibal gazing after her with a distracted distance and then smiling when his eyes met Alana's. Despite her suspicion of them both, her heart leapt at that smile.

"Are you alright, Dr Artz,"

"Don't you worry, Dr Bloom, we've had a minor disagreement but it'll be over in five minutes," she looked amused at herself, "But that being said, I've still got to mark those papers so I'll be moving on. It was good seeing you,"

"And you. Good luck with the marking,"

She tried to smile but she felt confused and disconcerted, finally making it to Hannibal with that expression firmly in place,

"What is it?"

"What did you and Dr Artz disagree on? She looked put out, what did you say?"

Hannibal looked up from Alana to find Dr Artz having just arrived at Jack Crawford's side. Yes, what had they disagreed on?

"The effects of trauma,"

"Real doctor talk, huh?"

"Yes," Hannibal felt amused.

OoOoOoO

Jack watched Artz stalk towards him with a frown. She looked irritated, put-out, annoyed. _What did you do, Hannibal?_

She arrived and finally smiled and tried to ease the tension from her face but her lips were still taught and her eyes didn't crinkle,

"Well, he's interesting,"

"He is, isn't he?" Jack narrowed his eyes cautiously. She caught him and her face dropped and true warmth suddenly radiated,

"He is, Agent Crawford. Listen, I've still got to mark some of my essays so if you'd be so kind,"

"By all means! Thank you for coming, Dr Artz, I appreciate it,"

"No problem at all, I'll see you soon, probably,"

"Tomorrow at 12?"

Guido nodded with a small smile, as if a tiny bit of her regretted getting involved. Jack felt amused.

"12 it is, good night, Agent Crawford,"

"Good night,"

But it wasn't quite the end and as she started moving Jack heard her mutter,

"I would check the food, Jack,"

And then she was by the door, throwing a curt nod to Dr Lecter who toasted her and then left. Jack felt suddenly all too aware of the people about him and the food that was before him and the food that was in him, aware of his host. The potential…he was in FBI mode and he needed to do what needed to be done and with that he decided to give it a few before telling Hannibal that he'd be on his way too and that it would be wonderful if he could take some food to go.

When he looked up from his thoughts, Hannibal Lecter was gazing at him thoughtfully.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack awaited the arrival of Dr Artz with slumped shoulders and his hands resting lazily in his pockets. He was gazing out the window of the testing lab where Jimmy Price and Brain Zeller had done the test on Lecter's food as Jack had requested of them.

It came back negative. It was just…

beef.

All his fears had rested on that fact and yet it worried him still simply because Dr Artz seemed so sure of something being hidden which added to his own unsettling gut feeling.

He saw her arrive, getting out of her car and reaching into her bag to pull out her phone, which she answered and put to her ear with a smirk. He watched her intensely; he didn't know what he was waiting for or why? But she did slow gradually, gradually until she stopped altogether, her face dropping and her eyes shifted from the doors of the Bureau out towards the city where they rested in thought. She looked like she lost a bet.

Given the circumstances, Jack found it ironic that she looked defeated prior to being told she was incorrect about Hannibal's food sources. She eventually put the phone away and glanced up and inevitably spotted Jack looking down at her with his stony, FBI gaze he always wore when he was thinking about crime. He waved at her; she nodded and then proceeded through the doors.

It didn't take her long to get to where they were and Jack was waiting with his hands still in his pockets,

"Hello Dr Artz, how are you?"

She exhaled loudly and let a smile grace her features,

"Agent Crawford, I'm well thank you. I have completed my marking and the university year is over for 2 months so, I've got all the time in the world,"

She looked pleased, her eyes were open wide, her sacks had disappeared and she looked alive again.

"Great," Jack smiled, genuinely pleased to hear it, "Come in, I want you to meet my team,"

She followed him in to where Zeller and Price were fussing with a body that appeared to be a John Doe. It wasn't Jack's case so he didn't really care and he tried to justify why he didn't but he didn't care much for the justification either.

"Jimmy, Brian, this is Dr Artz I was telling you about,"

"Oh, hey," Jimmy waved in his feminine manner while Brian did so in a more reserved fashion, flashing a small smile,

"These two," Jack continued, "have been doing the autopsy for all the bodies we've found and have been doing all the gory look-abouts for the scenes they were found in,"

Artz nodded and cringed ever so slightly at the body on the table, ironically being one of the prettier ones.

"I took your advice," Jack continued, glancing at Dr Artz before returning his gaze to Jimmy and Brian who were waiting their turn patiently, "I took some food to go from Dr Lecter's party and had them test it,"

"And?"

"And," Jimmy suddenly started, ever the first in, "It's nothing. Normal cow,"

"Well not normal," Brian smirked, "It a special cow,"

"Well, I guess so," Jimmy concurred,

"Special how?" Jack urged them on,

"Special in its origins. Cow's not from around here and that's all we could figure out, really," Jimmy continued,

"Yeah, but the beef is associated with special occasions, so it's expensive and better for digestion. Dr Lecter's a picky guy with expensive taste is our conclusion,"

"You don't know what the cow is?" Artz was frowning, seemingly not too happy with their answer. Jimmy and Brian turned to her in puzzlement,

"Well we thought that it being beef was enough given the circumstances of what we were all worried about it being in the first place,"

Jack glanced at Artz who appeared to be thinking very hard about something,

"Hmm…fair enough,"

"Is it?" Jack enquired, gauging her reaction,

"What were we expecting to see in there, Jack?"

She turned to him expectantly as did Jimmy and Brian. Jack suddenly became aware of the fact that he hadn't said anything about what he expected to see and his expectations were solely based on the urging of Will Graham who Jack was conflicted in feelings towards, the unfading aura of trust and suspicion battling it out every day. He was reluctant to give her his thoughts just yet but then again, if she wasn't expecting the same thing as he, why ask him to test it in the first place?

"What did you want me to test the food for?"

"It looked suspicious," she replied, blunt and unblinkingly,

"Your suspicion made me suspicious in turn, Dr Artz,"And that was not entirely untrue; one suspected psycho suspecting another is one thing, a perfectly sane psychiatrist from down the road suspecting it was another.

"Hannibal the Cannibal, huh? You were expecting to see people,"

Jack paused, wondering how she knew but he didn't need to ask,

"Will Graham told me about what he thought, seems like you believe him,"

"He's been nagging me the whole time; I needed to be sure,"

"Are you sure?"

Jack frowned,

"I'm not sure about anything right now, Dr Artz,"

Dr Artz's eyes flickered in a knowing glint and her eyebrows arched ever so slightly before she took her leave of them all, telling Jack on her way out that she was off to see Will Graham again. He watched her go through the door and walk with purpose to her car when her phone rang again and this time she waited until she was in her car before she answered it. The glass doors into the Bureau were tinted so Jack could spy easily in broad dayligh and he felt iffy about it. But her demeanour changed when she answered the phone. Artz had tensed up as if the caller was someone she really didn't want to speak too nor did she anticipate them calling at all.

OoOoOoO

Hannibal waited patiently while the phone rang and felt his excitement rise when the droning noise of a phone waiting to be picked up finally ended and the voice on the other end answered with a weary 'hello'.

"Hello, Dr Artz,"

Artz's breath hitched audibly on the other end of the phone line,

"Dr Lecter, how did you get my number I wonder?"

"I posed as a lecturer from your university and got it off one of your colleagues,"

"How do you know where I work?"

"Dr Bloom was kind enough to inform me,"

Silence as the information sunk in. Guido Artz was not easily irritated or made to anger but Alana Bloom, Lecter could tell, was going to be a cause of great annoyance for her. He could tell and he planned on using that to his advantage as often as possible for the sheer enjoyment of it and of course for testing. How long would it take for Dr Artz to get so pissed at someone that she finally shouts at them? It was such a fickle thing but he had never seen her rage before. The only time she screamed was when he managed to get the knife into her abdomen. But that wasn't the same.

"How long have you known Dr Bloom for, Dr Lecter?"

"Probably longer than you now due to your absence,"

"Ah, well,"

"So I take it you told Jack to test my food?"

"I did,"

"Very rude, Dr Artz,"

"I tried to be discreet, I suppose it didn't work. I apologise profusely,"

"Accepted. And?"

"I think you know, doctor,"

"I suppose I do. Not people,"

"Well played, Sir,"

Hannibal had to chuckle,

"It wasn't soya mince though, was it?"

"Definitely not,"

It was Artz's turn to chuckle,

"Still managed to spite me, a double whammy of spite, you could say,"

"Quite,"

"Well, I must be off, Dr Lecter, it was good chatting to you,"

"Was it?"

"Don't make me answer that. Goodbye,"

"Goodbye,"

And the phone was put down. Hannibal placed his landline back where it belonged and continued with his art, the picture he was working on being Artz in a cage with Will Graham stepping gracefully through the bars.

OoOoOoO

Speaking of cages, Will Graham was back in his and he felt agitated. His leg wouldn't keep still as he tapped his foot incessantly; impatiently awaiting the arrival of his compatriot.

Artz eventually arrived, pulling up a chair without a word and placing herself in it to look expectantly at Will who automatically leaned forward,

"Hello, Dr Artz,"

"Good Afternoon, Professor,"

Will looked down with a smile, the formality still taking a bit of time getting used to.

"I had Jack test Hannibal's food served at his dinner party last night,"

"And?" Will looked up with narrowed eyes,

"And nothing. Beef. He called me out for it too," she laughed.

But Will was confused,

"How do you mean?"

"He got hold of my number and called me to find out how the testing went,"

Will caught up with her then and chuckled too, as if trying to catch a murderer was a joke. Especially funny because the murderer knew they were trying to do so or at least was aware of something.

"He's a smart man,"

"He is," she cocked her head at him, "But so are you,"

"I have a trial in three days and the only thing that a waits at the end of that is my death,"

"Debatable,"

Will snorted,

"Yeah? Do explain,"

"Jack doesn't believe you're the guy, neither did Miss Katz…more so because of Miss Katz's death. Jack is the most influential man in the FBI right now, if he doesn't believe you did it then…" she considered her last words carefully as if making sure what she was about to say was correct, "No one will. Takes a little bit of belief to set things in motion, you'll be out before you know it,"

"He's only got the trial to accomplish that,"

"He does. So does Dr Lecter although Dr Lecter has far better means to get you out than Jack does,"

"What makes you so sure Dr Lecter will want to get me out?"

"He likes you,"

"Won't be enough,"

"Oh you'll be surprised. If I liked you –" she cut herself off as her head sort of jerked as if taken aback by her lack of thought over the sentence. Will might have chuckled darkly at it if he wasn't so interested in where she was going with it,

" - _loved_ you even half as much as Dr Lecter does, I would have gotten you out by now but of course Dr Lecter is Dr Lecter and likes a game, he'll be taking his time because your release means all is reset, the arrows that were all pointing at you will be free to point at someone else,"

"Those arrows will find someone else quick enough and it won't be him, I assure you. How do you think he'll do it?"

"Oh hell if I know,"

He regarded her with thought, taking in her relaxed demeanour, genuinely in awe of how unfazed she was at the prospect of Will's death as a result of a fair trial executed by unfair means. Taking that all into account, the situation truly was a mess, a carefully organised mess with intelligent minds from every corner coming in to take part simply because messes of the mind always attracted people who enjoyed the concept of other people's brains rather than their own, it was a design beautifully crafted by Lecter to turn all of the minds, that if working alone would figure him out easily, against each other one by one. And if Will was to be honest with himself with regards to the interest in brain function, he was no exception granted his interest was by default.

Neither was Dr Artz. Although she had seen the worst of it already and as Dr Du Maurier said, those who have survived death are the most dangerous. So Du Maurier had her conclusion of Hannibal, this was Will's conclusion of Dr Artz. The verdict was surprisingly calming. She believed in his survival, she believed in Hannibal's capture, she believed in them all as a team, she believed that the arrows would be adjusted and when they were, he'd be the one to have adjusted them,

"So I've got a plan then,"

"You do," Artz's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Interesting, I was expecting you to go rogue,"

"And die angry," Will had considered it but Artz's face told him that he was wrong about her thought process,

"Not at all, just go rogue and that was where it would end,"

Again, her belief was relieving.

"Your plan?" she urged him on,

"Between you and me for now,"

"Agreed,"

"I continue to play Hannibal's game,"

"Entrapment you seem to be saying,"

"You seem to be correct; we'll catch him as witnesses,"

"Yeah…" she frowned,

"Sceptical,"

"Very,"

"Why?"

"He's smart. He picks up the scent of agendas as a sniffer dog might pick up drugs,"

"Dr Artz I'm an empathetic man, I can think like him if I choose too which I am openly deciding to do now. With that as an advantage, I can deceive him,"

"He knows this; he'll keep an eye out. He can deceive you too,"

"I'll deal with that. You focus on Jack and the FBI, stay away from me. I'll lure him in…"

"I'll pull the string to drop the hatch,"

"Cheers to that,"

"I would shake your hand but…" she gestured to the cage Will was stuck behind.

Will shook his head,

"Rule number one; stay away from me,"

With that, Artz got up abruptly and without another word, departed with pace, not looking back as she nodded curtly to the man at the door who opened it to let her through with a stoic expression.

Will was alone again, suddenly, probably, too sure of his own survival of the trial and as well as his release. But he was renewed again, he felt rejuvenated even while being escorted back to his cell. The glass being shut behind him and Chilton nodding at him without a word and leaving him alone, Will was still in a state of new hope. Elevated to a point where he felt superior – a plan that was his making, that didn't require the knowledge of anyone but himself and Artz, that could not be sabotaged by the presence of Lecter or Chilton inside his head, it would remain untouched because he had made it himself and because Artz had no interest in messing with his head, it was as safe as it could ever be and he felt empowered by that. His mind was his again.

OoOoOoOoO

Three days passed quickly and Alana knew it was because she didn't want them to pass at all. She was in the process of putting on her smartest attire in the slowest way possible for the day ahead was going to be long and tiresome and filled with manipulative power struggles as various lawyers and witnesses alike tried to prove the convicted a liar, a killer, a nobody or completely and utterly innocent.

Alana had never been more confused about her feelings in all her life.

She met Jack outside the doors to the court room and they entered together,

"Are you ready?" he asked, more tenderly than Alana ever thought possible but she felt fragile and had no fire to hide it, she must have looked it and she had to admit that Jack was a good man, even a great one who knew the very thin difference between stupidity and genuine cause.

"No," she sighed, "I'm really not. Are you?"

He looked at her, considering his answer with a roll of his lips,

"No,"

And that was that as they retreated to their respective seats.

The trials proceeds started rather abruptly with Will seated by his lawyers side in a slumped silence, apparently oblivious to what was being said about him by anyone. Alana assumed that he was being arrogant even in the court room, arrogant and stuck in the belief that everyone was talking bullshit. Of course he was a man who truly believed himself innocent so why wouldn't he think that?

Alana wanted to slap him, wanted him to make some effort to give people a reason to believe him or at least attempt to understand why he did things…or why he did not.

But he was out. He didn't even look at her when she went up in his defence, nor at Jack. In fact, the only reaction he gave anybody was Hannibal, whose final sentence for the trial of that day was,

"Will Graham is, and will always be, my friend,"

Will was as cold as ice towards that statement. Hannibal gazed at him as if gazing at a child, a child he was proud of. Artz, Alana finally noticed sitting silently in the back, observing with narrowed eyes and listening carefully, took in a notable breath at Hannibal's statement and nodded to herself as if she had proven herself correct.

Alana still couldn't put a finger on Artz, didn't understand her. It was times like these that she hated her job, times where she was all too aware of the complexities of the people around her.

Artz was not at the trial the following day but Alana thought that might be because what she needed to see, she saw already and so the result was inconsequential.

The judge called for a lunch break half way through that day when everyone was most confused. Alana was thankful for she felt like she was unravelling at the seams far too quickly. But she hadn't left before Will received a letter that his lawyer opened up and froze when its contents fell out.

Will didn't seem surprised at all and when Alana turned to see if Jack had been there to see it, he was staring at it with narrowed eyes as if he had a vague idea about what was about to go down. His was a quick departure while Hannibal, who Alana wasn't even aware of still being there, took her arm and guided her out. Once out of the hall and out into the air he turned to her,

"Not something you want to spend too much time looking at,"

"No," Alana concurred absent minded, the image already engraved firmly in her head, the wheels starting to turn again, no doubt in the same manner Jack's mind was,

"Alana?"

She looked up from her worries to find Hannibal gazing at her with concern,

"Come, I'll buy you lunch,"

She accepted gratefully but it didn't stop her wheels from going around in circles. When she saw the arrival of Dr Artz again, her face contorted in focused thought, she broke free of Hannibal and hurried towards her,

"Dr Artz!"

Artz turned her attention to Alana upon her approach and stopped dead, glancing at Hannibal briefly,

"Dr Bloom, Jack's called me in about – "

"An ear in the post. Do you know about the first ear?"

"I do,"

"What do you think?"

Alana didn't even know why Artz's opinion had suddenly become so important to her and she couldn't explain why she so badly needed to know what Artz thought about the ordeal either. Artz went silent, regarding Alana with an air of calm, evidently trying to allow Alana to relax for she had no doubt in her mind that she looked rather frantic,

"Inconclusive but I think, perhaps, that someone might be reaching out to Mr Graham,"

"I thought so," Alana sighed audibly,

"Calm down, Dr Bloom and go and have some lunch. Don't think too much; don't make any conclusion just yet,"

Alana agreed it to be the best idea; she was fond of the idea that food was the remedy for everything. But she had one more question that she needed to share,

"I feel like, this is the beginning of something else entirely. What do you think?"

Artz's eyes narrowed,

"I think this is the beginning of the same thing but in an entirely different manner,"

And she started on her way,

"I'll talk to you again, Dr Bloom," she glanced at Dr Lecter again, "Dr Lecter,"

And she went on, meeting Jack at the entrance, his hands in his pockets and his frown in place, greeting Dr Artz with a so-we-meet-again gaze as she arrived. Theirs was an inconvenient meeting, proceeding in without looking about.

When Alana turned to Lecter, he was gazing after them too in that knowing stance of his. He was very tall, Alana had always been aware of it but in this moment, when she felt most fragile, he seemed gigantic. So solid as if he had his beliefs and that was that – he was so sure of what was happening, he said that Will was his friend, maybe the ear was something he was grateful for.

A door had been opened, Alana was sure of it but what lay beyond the door frame was in darkness. Someone needed to switch on the light but no one, least of Alana, seemed to know where the light switch was.

OoOoOoO

Hannibal did not send the ear. It annoyed him that he was not the man to initiate the questioning of Will Graham's guilt. He had planned to set him free in one go but that plan had been foiled. He would still go through with it but it wouldn't be as spectacularly eye-opening as he had wanted it to be.

Alana Bloom too, he had been working very hard to keep her in the dark but when once she used to talk to him about her worries, she now appeared to go straight to someone else. Someone who knew full well what was happening and had the ability, same as he, same as Will, to manipulate the outcome of Alana, Jack and the rest of the teams conclusions.

A spanner in the works.

He listened intently to Alana as she rambled on about her thoughts and fears about Will Graham, wondering about where he could start to adjust her opinion to fit his agenda as well as Will's. Her mind was not easy to bend but once he had figured out how, it was easy enough to keep bending it the only problem was that he needed a more subtle less obvious way now because his opinions would be vastly different to Artz's and would cause conflict in Alana's head.

The situation was growing more complicated by the minute and took every ounce of fibre in Hannibal's being not to drop his shoulders and growl at the world for being so damn unpredictable. But he would get it under his control again, give it a day or so, he was sure that Artz was still unsure of how to guide the FBI to him so he figured there was still time but time was of the essence. Smart people could be manipulated but at some point, all were enlightened, and the people he was manipulating were all intelligent enough to gain enlightenment far more quickly than the average know-how.

When Alana and him got back, they found Jack and Artz staring through the doors of the courtroom without blinking. Jack seemed put-out, as if it were something that was obviously going to happen and he had been hopeful enough to think that it wouldn't.

Artz looked human; horrified by what was before her.

When Dr Bloom and Lecter arrived, Alana gasped and had her hand fly to her mouth. Lecter thought it fitting but had to feign horror – what was before them was the judge displayed as the justice scale; his brain in one, his heart in the other. Lecter wanted to applaud but the bastard, no doubt the same man who had sent the ear, had stolen his fire again. Hannibal walked away without looking back. No one called him back, no one questioned him.

Fuck this, Will is going free tomorrow was the general idea.

OoOoOoO

Day three was nothing. Will was going to plead innocent now that new evidence had come to light to his advantage but something new had come around.

A body, mutilated and staged in the same manner as the copy-cat killer would have done it, was found by one of the policemen who stood guard outside the courtroom.

When Will was told of this by Alana, he awaited the arrival of Jack with bated breath; this either meant his freedom or his condemnation. When Jack finally did arrive with Artz behind him, all he said was,

"I'm sorry, Will,"

Will's heart stopped then, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief, how had this not worked?! How was he still going to be on trial?

"I'm sorry that I didn't believe you. I'll see you tomorrow,"

And he left Will with a rising feeling of elation, excitement and relief rolled into one as freedom was nigh and death by lethal injection was erased.

He glanced at Artz who had stayed behind, her arms crossed in a knowing manner and a small smile on her face,

"I'm going to tell you something, Will,"

It was the first time she had spoken without being spoken to first, to him at least, a strange revelation but he was mimicking her smile and he couldn't help it,

"Fire away,"

"I guessed Dr Lecter 'loved' you. I wasn't actually sure that what I was saying was true or whether I was ever going to be able to say this to you but now that it has all finally happened and the added bonus of Dr Lecter's statement, very loving it was, you forever being his friend and all, I think it apt that I say this with all the smug arrogance I can muster,"

"Yes?"

"Did I not tell you so?"

"You did,"

She leaned into her little chortle before unfolding her arms and turning from him but not before she said,

"I will see you tomorrow, Will,"

Yes, tomorrow, everything started again. He was starting again but with a new force, a new goal. He caught sight of himself in the glass and he saw it there too, his enlightenment, the antlers on his back, he looked dangerous.

He felt dangerous.

He was dangerous.


	6. Chapter 6

"So now that we know Will Graham is not the killer, I just need to be sure, so you think he's still unstable?"

Alana and Jack were on one side of the table facing Dr Artz who was on the other, her legs crossed, an exact imitation of Dr Lecter all over again, throwing them both off. She looked from Alana to Jack, back to Alana and back again before taking a breath peering at her clasped hands,

"Unstable implies uncertainty. I don't think Will is uncertain anymore – at all, about anything. I do think he's dangerous,"

"How so?"

Jack turned his head, suspicion rising in him as he started to question whether Will Graham's release was the right thing to do.

"He's no longer afraid of thinking like a killer; he is fascinated by the concept which will make him powerful. He's now able to play the part of a killer without being one or otherwise will be able to be a killer without letting that on to the people around him. It will give him an advantage over the killer you're actually trying to catch,"

"But do you think he has killed anyone? Do you think he will kill someone if he hasn't already? Do you think that it was a good idea letting him go?"

"Jack, I think everyone proved innocent should be given a chance to prove that in life outside a jail cell too. I don't think Will is a killer, I just think he now has the capacity to be one and will be able to choose when the time comes - but he's got a target already. You know who,"

"Hannibal Lecter," Jack nodded in submission, peering at the reflection of Artz in his glass table but Alana wasn't ready to accept it yet, still struggling with her own confusion,

"Hannibal Lecter is not the killer! What is it with you people?"

"Dr Bloom, how well do you really know Hannibal Lecter? With all this going on, who have you gone to for advice? Do you have anyone else's opinion to think on besides your own and Dr Lecter's?"

Jack turned to Alana, awaiting her response as she tried to defend herself from that comment but she couldn't hide from the truth, she had always spoken to Hannibal. She trusted him with every fibre of her being, the notion of him being the serial killer they were being eluded by was devastating.

"It's not him,"

"I never said he was, I just need you to think about it,"

The air stilled around them when Alana's eyes dropped as she started to do just that, as Jack did the same and Dr Artz prepared to enlighten them both – to point them all in a more direct fashion without breaking the rules she and Dr Lecter had decided upon,

"Which brings me to this; in light of recent events I feel it necessary to give you a little more truth,"

All the attention was turned to her again, as Alana and Jack leaned forward, Jack looking weary as he prepared for more infuriating information and Alana prepared for more emotionally disruptive news.

"I know Dr Lecter; I've known him from years back. There was an incident,"

"What incident?" Jack asked sharply but Artz maintained the calm and rushed not,

"Dr Lecter and I had a run in and so I am here to merely point out that perhaps when once you were so shocked to find that your killer was hiding in plain sight, don't be so surprised to find that he still is,"

"Are you saying that you are a witness, Dr Artz?"

Jack had straightened up, his face hardening, the suspicion of betrayal showing at the corner of his eyes. Alana looked like she wanted to cry, her eyes wet and raw, her mouth trembling,

"Unfortunately that is as direct as I can be. Dr Lecter and I are playing a game, you see. We have rules. As long as I play by those rules, I'll stay alive,"

"You've been playing within the jaws of the dragon, Dr Artz if what you're implying is true," Jack sat back "but we can't do anything if you don't act as witness,"

"Me acting as a witness to anything will not help you. He's smart, Jack, you won't find evidence quickly, I assure you. If you find it, it will be on purpose and most probably a trap,"

"And so you expect us to…what?"

"Keep a whither eye out is all,"

"Is this you walking away from us?"

"No, no, no, I will be here to an end, who's end is in question but I will be here, you'll need me, I have no doubt,"

"I need you now,"

"And I've pointed the arrows, all you need to do is discreetly follow them,"

"How do we do that with caution?"

"Will Graham and I have an understanding too. His new found fascination with serial killing and finally having grasped what it means to be one will help him…help _you_ catch him,"

"You're setting a trap,"

"We're setting a trap! If you like; you can be part of that. After all, if we're wrong, he'll be set free, we'll all apologise and life will go on,"

"But that's not true, is it?"

"No,"

Jack rubbed his face, expressive of this sudden revelation, it was too much to ignore now. Will was strict on his singling out of Hannibal Lecter, Du Maurier was cautious of him and now Dr Artz.

"This is ridiculous!" Alana suddenly burst in, her head had been down and now having risen out of the darkness with fury, it was clear to all present that she had been crying but Dr Artz regarded her tenderly,

"And you, Dr Bloom, I know you have close ties with Dr Lecter. If I were you, I would be more careful. Assuming that what I have told you is true, I think you're in more trouble than any of us,"

Jack looked at Alana side on,

"If close ties you mean a long lasting friendship then maybe Alana's right. She would have caught on if there was something wrong…"

He was a good man, he really was, he wanted to give Alana some hope but Hannibal had become his friend too, he wanted nothing more than to dismiss him but this entire investigation appeared to be going in circles and his gut was telling him things his brain was arguing against and his heart was in shreds more often than not too due to Bella's cancer…my, how she had changed. She was still the most beautiful woman he had and would ever see. He maintained that notion and told her every day, just to get her to smile. His day would be alright if she smiled but sometimes she just couldn't, the mere act of trying to display happiness was becoming a trial for her.

He wanted - needed his friends and Hannibal had become someone he could rely on but things were starting to fall apart – whichever end they fell upon, their friendship was going to land up in ruins. It was so small a thing but it was larger than most deals, "friends don't accuse each other of murder".

He supposed his support of Alana was more selfish than he would ever admit. Alana glanced at him through watery, extra bright eyes, surprise flashing in them before looking back at Artz as if she had won a battle. Two against one, what was Artz to do?

Jack returned his weary gaze to Artz too; she was silent, her eyes drifting between them thoughtfully. Filled to the brim with something Jack couldn't recognise, all but defeated she sat before them,

"Maybe," was all she said, the most unconvincing thought Jack had ever heard in his life – he wanted to drop his head onto the table, hell he wanted to break it just to see whether the glass would break, to draw the line between reality and nightmares because this was so surreal Jack woke up tired in the mornings simply because he struggled to tell the difference between his dreams and the buzz of real time, so similar had they become.

"He'll prove you wrong," Alana got up and began to rueful stalk towards the door before she stopped, a little shoulder drop as she turned,

"I was wrong about Will but that's where it ends,"

And she was gone.

Jack leaned back in his chair,

"She's a pistol,"

Artz only smiled and nodded. Jack let out a sigh and shut his eyes, opening them to find Arts gazing at him through sturdy green eyes,

"Why don't you be honest with us?"

"I'm playing a game in the jaws of the dragon,"

"We can offer you protection,"

"From who?"

Jack knew what she was doing; trying to get him to pinpoint the answer himself but he couldn't do it,

"I'm not going to say anything if you don't tell me,"

"We'll be running in circles, Agent Crawford,"

"I already am," and before he knew it, Jack was pouring out everything that ever bothered him, an endless flow of thoughts and heart-ache that Jack had a tendency to keep locked away just in case it went into the wrong hands – the FBI taught him to be just so.

"I'm so…lost. As if I've been dumped in a desert and told to find my way to a forest. Thin and stretched like too little butter over too much bread,"

He wasn't surprised to have his story unanswered by Artz, he thought his sudden outburst must have had her taken aback but when he looked up a little bashfully, he only found a soft, unwavering sort of ambience that emanated from her being. She appeared to be in a Trans, as if Jack's ramblings had struck a core nerve and had her lost in a reel of emotion just above the average plight, untouchable, unrecognisable and so easily missed.

He felt a wee sense of relief to have someone feel it so, to identify with – in a strange manner, though it was. It was then he realised that she was stoic, she listened but blocked out that which could hurt – perhaps she felt too much rather than just enough which was the initial impression Jack had been beginning to get. He must have caught her off guard.

"Dr Artz?"

At the sound of her name, her expression changed visibly from lost to thought and all returned, reality came back with vengeance then and Jack had a sudden surge of rage.

Psychiatrists were people who had perfected the art of showing less emotion towards their patient's ordeals than was the norm. This is on behalf of the patient no doubt but Jack wondered if that maybe didn't help as much as one might think simply because sometimes one wants someone to cry with them.

Artz had moment of listening to him without that guard and he realised that he had given her a piece of him that went straight to her heart and he could see it being stitched there.

Guido looked at him, still in silence a moment longer before she spoke,

"You have to let go,"

"Of what? I spent so much time here with death and now it's in my house. I keep thinking I'll take Bella back to Italy and she could die there but I can't do that yet,"

"Close your eyes,"

He looked at her sceptically, but she only nodded to urge him on. He took a breath and closed his eyes. Through the darkness, Guido's voice wafted in,

"What is the first thing that comes to mind?"

"Bella…by the sea,"

"Tell me about it,"

Jack could see it so clearly in his mind; her leaping into the waves and running out in joy, like a child. She was happy and healthy. Running up to such little things and shouting "Bella!" at everything. It was the moment he had first decided that that should have been her name; he had never seen a more beautiful woman. It was their honeymoon and they were happy…_he _was happy.

He was reluctant to open his eyes at the end, all too aware of the feeling of bliss that had come over him and the small tug of a smile at the corners of his lips. When he did, things were a blur; light had not yet managed to make a place in his sight yet so for a short lived moment, he was dreaming with his eyes open and Bella was still running joyously down a beach in Florence ahead of him. When Artz became more apparent and the light of Baltimore came in through his window, he let his face be.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel…" he took a moment to think it through, to make sure, "Calm, content,"

He looked up at her, amazed. She only smiled at him, her eyes soft in the afternoon light, as bright as day,

"Good,"

She left Jack with the quiet state of contentment and no goodbye. It was not fitting but happiness in the middle of struggle was always best left as long as possible.

OoOoOoO

That night, Alana lay in Hannibal's arms, her head spinning in the aftermath of ecstasy and her emotions from the day still raw. She was not normally one to speak before thinking but this night was an exception. The words were out before she could stop herself,

"Are you hiding something, Hannibal?"

She felt his body stiffen slightly and then relax but she was suddenly awake and yet her eyes were glued shut, out of terror as to what she might find or hope as to what she might not, she couldn't tell.

"What do you mean?"

His voice was low, husky, and innocent even in the way he asked as if taken aback by the concept of hiding anything at all. It was all she needed and she opened her eyes to find he was gazing at her without blinking. He was wide awake too, his face assembled carefully to display confusion but it seemed like practised apathy compared to what lurked in the depths of his gaze, whatever it was seemed far more primitive.

"Nothing," she answered timidly, dropping her eyes,

"Tell me, Alana, what's wrong?"

She looked up in hopes that whatever was there was gone…alas. She wanted to escape this now; she wished she'd never asked. She thought for a moment and then opted for hormonal Alana. The Alana who snapped at everyone and everything for no reason, he'd seen that Alana before, he would understand.

"Don't worry, Hannibal," she snapped and rose from the sheets and stepped,

"Where are you going?"

"I need to go,"

"Why's that?"

"I just – I don't really know," she turned to face him, trying to show the genuine truth behind the words. As she began to change, she was aware of him rising to a seated position and taken aback by how much more graceful he was than she as he ascended from the sea of linin to pace agilely over to her and place strong hands on her shoulders to prevent her from slipping anymore pieces of clothing over her body. She had only succeeded as far as her underwear.

"Come back to bed," he whispered into her ear and he was suddenly tender, the primitive man in his eyes gone as she let him guide her back to bed and she was back to thinking about the impossible – the impossible which seemed quite, quite possible after her little experience. He was tender, dutiful, respectful and ultimately the world's greatest lover but what the fuck was that there in the deep?

"…I think you're in more trouble than any of us…"

It was probably true now that she thought about it. Whichever way this went, Alana was in trouble.

She could barely think straight after five or so minutes as his light caresses got the better of her and their night started again.

OoOOOoO

Hannibal Lecter waited patiently for Alana's breathing to deepen as it does when one has fallen into the realm of sleep.

He got up and walked around the bed and stayed there, watching her, pulling up the covers to her shoulders and the looking at her some more. He could still feel a little piece of the primitive beast lurking beneath his skin and she had so very nearly pushed the boundaries too far and asked him straight out.

If she had, the outcome would have been regrettable but necessary but the fact that she had been thinking about it brought him to the question of whether Artz was perhaps cheating a little. Or perhaps she was better at playing the game than he thought.

The more Hannibal ran things through in his head, right from the beginning with Artz; the more he wondered, the more he wanted to test and the more sure he became of his expectations.

He focused a little more on Alana, the curve of her back, the way she cuddled the duvet to her, the goose-bumps she got when the air grew a little chilly. He glanced out the window; it was a dark night, the moon just visible through the ominous clouds that rolled in from the East – it was going to be a miserable day the next day.

He estimated and hour or so before the rains came…

One last glance at Alana, he left her to sleep and took his coat and shoes and keys, of course, and headed for the door for fairness was in the level of understanding between two opponents. If one raises the bar, then it is only fair that he do the same.

OOoOoO

Chilton watched as Will Graham took his first step out of his cage, having donned the clothes brought for him courtesy of an agitated and irritable Alana Bloom. He looked like a new man, more curious about the world, so much more aware.

Chilton no longer blamed him. He remembered saying to Jack at Hannibal Lecter's dinner party, "Darwinism". He had said it in anticipation, unsure but not willing to take any chances. Hannibal fitted the profile and Graham's accusations were severely convincing and why would he make it up if he barely knew about the specifics of therapy? Lecter had been performing some highly unorthodox forms of therapy on Will with results that seemed to be affective…up until the point he started to remember.

The thought terrified him; the concept of Darwinism suddenly being real in a more definitive form. It felt like he was playing with the devil and that was only because he had no doubt that Lecter probably believed himself to be God and the Devil reincarnate and if not God, then the devil laughing in his face.

"What will you do?" he asked quietly,

Will turned with purpose, raising his eyebrows at Chilton,

"Reckoning,"

"How?"

"I have a plan. I'm going to try and catch smoke, Dr Chilton, if you're trying to decide whether to put your faith in me or not," which was exactly what Chilton was trying to do, "I suggest you don't. In these sorts of situations, the only thing anyone can do is trust themselves. It's everyman for himself."

With that, Will Graham abandoned Dr Chilton, standing alone in his own asylum. He looked at the cage Will had just left behind and considered locking himself inside only to slap a hand over his face in dismay. It was ridiculous and what good would it do anyway?

He watched Will Graham meet Dr Artz, that funny woman, through the barred window; they shook hands and Graham seemed genuinely happy and he watched them leave, deep in discussion. Chilton had a very clear idea as to what they were discussing and he wanted to believe them but he took what Graham said to heart. He sat down in the cage and took a breath.

"Dr Chilton?"

Chilton looked up, surprised at how he managed to get so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Jack Crawford arrive.

OoOoOoOoO

Jack was in one hell of a mood. There was a grisly murder awaiting him in some park but he wanted to speak to Abel Gideon before he went any further with pursuing Lecter through these crimes. Chilton sitting in the cage, however, was a little different. He looked tired too, scared,

"Hmm?" he looked surprised when he opened his eyes, "Agent Crawford!"

Jack only nodded, gazing a little suspiciously at Chilton,

"Agent Crawford, what's the time? Did you see Mr Graham?"

Jack shook his head,

"Hmm…I must have been sitting here for longer than I thought,"

"Why?"

"Uh…thinking, what can I do for you?"

"I need to speak to Abel Gideon,"

"Right,"

Chilton was quick to oblige which was new for Jack. What was it with everyone and acting strangely? Certain characters in his life had changed their personalities notably. It was infuriating. He didn't know who was who anymore but Chilton responding quickly and positively to Jack's requests was welcome.

When Jack was re-introduced to Abel Gideon, Chilton took a step back without saying a word, leaving Jack to glance at him in perplexity before turning his full attention to Dr Gideon who sat with excellent posture, a gleam in his eyes. If it could be said about anyone, then Gideon was the one to say it about: Cheeky bastard.

"Hmm," Gideon frowned at Chilton, "Quiet today, isn't he,"

Jack knew better than to rush Abel Gideon,

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you again, Mr Crawford," Gideon did a double take before correcting himself, "Agent. Agent Crawford, humble apologies,"

"Don't worry about it," Jack tried not to sound so bitter but his patience was thin this day.

"Oh I don't. I only apologise because apparently, that's the right thing to do. But I find the line between right and wrong grows thinner everyday – death row and all that. I mean sometimes it's backwards altogether; some people who haven't taken any lives at all have theirs taken away simply because it was so horrible they may as well have killed their victims. But they _didn't…_and therein the dilemma lies. Oh dear,"

Gideon seemed truly troubled by the concept. Jack was troubled by it as well, he'd never been a fan of the death penalty himself but every now and then he found himself wracked with an unbearable wish for death upon those that hurt people that were so damn undeserving of it. He struggled with it more often than he liked to admit and it confused him.

"I can see I have upset you," Jack looked up to see Gideon smiling at him in a moment where he wasn't mocking Jack – or anyone, "What is it you want, Agent Crawford?"

"I want you tell me what you know about the Chesapeake Ripper,"

"Ooh, a sketchy subject. What makes you think I would know?"

"You've met him,"

"I have?"

"You know you have, Doctor, a man like you will attract him,"

Gideon nodded his head, appearing content with Jack's explanation.

"I won't tell you who he is, Agent, but I'll tell you this. You're in the right box and you were in the wrong corner but you figured that out it would seem," he looked across his cell, through its wall into the next where Will used to sleep, where they had their talks about sadism, "I'm going to miss him,"

Jack ignored that,

"What corner should I be looking in, Dr Gideon?"

"The man _or woman_, you seek, will be right in front of your eyes. They will also make sure that the evidence you _do_ find, will point away from them. That being said, sometimes they point the evidence right at themselves only to confuse you into overlooking it. Whoever the ripper is, given half the chance, they would love to be part of your work only to manipulate the situation,"

Jack dropped his eyes in thought,

"And confuse the bejesus out of all of us directly. I could be going in circles,"

"Yes,"

Jack nodded and thanked Dr Gideon for his time and put a hand on Chilton's shoulder just because he looked like he needed it.

He drove solemnly to the park where the murder was only to find that they were finishing up and Jimmy and Brian had already made their way back to the lab. So Jack grudgingly reversed out of the park parking lot and back to the Bureau into which he trudged with a scowl.

When the two scientists saw him, they both were reluctant to say anything. Jack looked from one to the other,

"And?"

"You're not going to like it," Price ventured nervously,

"No? I don't like a lot of things at the moment, Jimmy; I doubt this'll make a difference,"

"Well," Brian answered doubtfully, "It might. We have three new prints here, three new suspects,"

"Yes?"

"Chilton, Lecter," Jack's heart did a summersault at that but the last name caught him off guard and he almost keeled over, "And Artz,"

"…Artz…"

Brian only nodded. Everything Gideon told him, replaying in his head. All three of them seemed to fit the bill but Artz? Artz! That was horrifically suspicious. It was a fuckin' huge spanner in the works too.

"I hate my job,"

OoOoO

When Will got the news, he spread the word to Artz, who was in the middle of typing on her computer when she answered the phone. She let out a tremendously uncharacteristic gasp and yelled loudly,

"Oh my God, he's cheating!"


End file.
